Forget Me Not
by Liris
Summary: Series of songfics. Most will be from the books directly, but some are original scenes. Involves character death canon, mostly A/H. I will take requests, for ships and songs/book sections.
1. Forget Me Not

This is a songfic set during TLC. HOlly's POV when Abbot stabs her. I know it's longer than it would take her to die in the book, but work with me. I'm working on the assumption that the mind slows everything down in order to prolong the moment of life. Warning: this is sad, and contains character death. Just in case you were wondering.  
Skullduck: She's getting more morbid by the second. Liris, do a disclaimer.  
Me: I own nothing. The characters and plot are Eoin Colfer's, and the song is 'Forget me not' by Lucie Silvas.

* * *

**Forget Me Not**

I feel the cold steel enter my chest, and all I can feel is pain. My vision flickers, and I hear more than feel the blade leave me. I'm too cold to feel more pain. Strange, seeing as we're in a volcano. I've heard this talked about before, and I know what's happening. Death comes to welcome me.

_Forget me not I ask of you  
Wherever your life takes you to  
And if we never meet again  
Think of me every now and then_

I fall to the dust and dirt, coughing. It feels like it's splitting me in half. I always thought that death was supposed to be painless at the end. I guess that's just another one of those myths. My magic isn't working; I can see shades of red, but no blue. No sparks, just a lot of harsh red light. And even that is spiralling into blackness. I manage to form actual words, though the effort drains even more out of me. "Magic." I feel more than hear myself gasp it. There is a rumble from Abbot, but it's just noise, not words. I think I understand though. No help is coming._  
_

_We had just one day to recall  
Now all I want is something more  
Than just a fading memory  
Left wondering what could have been_

I can't die, they need me. If I die, so will everyone else. Number One, Quan, all the demons. Artemis. Artemis! If anyone can help, it's him. I manage to turn my head, ignoring the pain that flares up my spine like fire. I manage to say his name; at least I think I do. "Help me" I mutter. It's the loudest sound I can manage. He doesn't come. Is it because he won't, or because he can't? I shake the first option from my head. I won't believe it; if he could help me he would. He's like that now. I hope he stays like that, even if he can't help me. Maybe they'll be able to lift the island without me – Number One is very powerful according to Quan. Maybe they can still save the others, even if they can't save me.

_Isn't it a shame that when timing's all wrong  
You're doing what you never meant to  
There's always something that prevents you_

The pain is dissipating, but so is everything else. Sound is just a muted blur, though I know it must be roaring past my ears. There is a volcano, hundreds of demons, not to mention the warlocks chanting behind me somewhere, but I can't make any of it out. I can't help any more. All I can do is live my own life, for these last few seconds, at any rate. I dwell on those closest to me – Foaly, Mulch, Trouble and Artemis. Especially Artemis. I never allowed myself to think about the boy properly before, because it made me feel confused. Most of the time I'm not sure whether to stun him or hug him. Now I can think, because what can it hurt? What conclusions can I come to in the milliseconds I have left that will harm the situation? Or maybe it's not about conclusions – maybe it's about acknowledgement. My feelings for the boy are more than just friendly, aren't they? At least I can admit that much to myself before I go.

_  
Well I believe in fate, it had to happen this way  
But it always leaves me wondering whether  
In another life we'd be together  
We should feel lucky we can say  
We've always got yesterday_

I can't tell him, but I think maybe he already knows. I focus the little willpower I have left on my eyes, and for a brief second the world comes in to focus. I can see Artemis, kneeling in front of the bomb, wiping at his eyes. He is crying for me – he knows there is nothing he can do. I don't mind, which surprises me. If he could have helped me, he would have.

_  
And as I leave it all behind  
You're still emblazoned in my mind  
And for that very special day  
Nobody loved me in that way  
_

Again, my vision goes dark, but this time I let it. My thoughts float around now, out of my control. Foaly, Mulch, Trouble, Root, my parents, they all float across my consciousness. Then Artemis again. I feel my heart thump, trying desperately to keep the blood circulating. There is not enough left in me now to circulate, it lies pooled on the ground around me. Red blood on red earth and red dust. Invisible. As in life, so in death.

_Forget me not I ask of you  
Wherever your life takes you to  
And if we never meet again  
Think of me every now and then_

I know that Artemis will get off the island, out of limbo and back to his family. I don't know how I know this, but I trust in it. It gives me the strength to reach out to the darkness, to allow it to embrace me and carry me away. Perhaps I will see my parents again, and the Commander. I would like that. I hope that Artemis will be happy. It was not his fault that this happened, for once. I feel my heart beat once more, then give up the battle. I have to go now. Goodbye, Artemis. Please, don't forget me.

_Forget me not I ask  
I ask of you_

The song has a very haunting melody, which I think fits the tempo of the fic quite well. There WILL be more to this, but I'm not certain what just yet. How about I put it to a vote: either more songfics from differnt character's POV throughout the books, or a continuation of this storylone where Holly stays dead.  
Please, let me know what you think/want. Your opinions mean a lot to us.

Love Liris and Skullduck  
xxx

* * *


	2. Shadow Of The Day

I'm back! People really disliked the idea of the AU fic, so I'm doing songfics.  
Skullduck: Told you people wouldn't want Holly to die.  
Me: No you didn't. The AU fic was your idea. Anyway, most of the songfics will be based around events in the books themselves, but this is one that I've come up with. Basically, set after TTP, and Holly and Artemis have been dating. It may be OOC, if it is please tell me and I'll do my best to fix it. It's kinda depressing, mind. Must be the exams getting to me. Thanks to Dutchman02 for putting me onto the song. If you have any that you'd like me to do, please let me know. My music knowledge is kind of limited.  
Disclaimer: Artemis Fowl is the property of Eoin Colfer, and the song 'Shadow of the Day' is by Linkin Park.

* * *

**Shadow Of The Day**

Artemis closed his eyes and tried to ignore the ring vibrating on his desk. It was Holly calling, again. This was the fifth call she'd made to him in the last hour. He hadn't replied to any of them. He didn't think he could. Not after their last little confrontation.

_I close both locks below the window  
I close both blinds and turn away  
Sometimes solutions aren't so simple  
Sometimes goodbye's the only way_

He shook his head, trying to stop the scene playing. It was a fruitless attempt. Their last meeting, scant days ago, was projected onto his eyelids, and he couldn't help but watch again as she turned him away. She didn't want to – that much was evident in her tone and body language – but she was still doing it. He almost laughed aloud as he thought that. What sort of hypocrite was he? Hadn't he been in the same situation when his mother was ill? He'd chosen to lie to her. He hadn't wanted to, but he hadn't seen any other way. Did he have any right to blame Holly for what had happened?

_And the sun will set for you  
The sun will set for you  
And the shadow of the day  
Will embrace the world in grey  
And the sun will set for you_

Once more, he saw her face, saw the tears in her eyes as she passed on the message from the Council. She'd hated to tell him, he knew, but she held the tears in check and delivered the killing blow anyway. Artemis tried to cover up her words with Beethoven, but it didn't work. He doubted that heavy metal could drown out her words.

_In cards and flowers on your window  
Your friends all plead for you to stay  
Sometimes beginnings aren't so simple  
Sometimes goodbye's the only way_

"We have to stop. I'm not allowed to see you any more, or they'll yank my badge and mindwipe you." Those were her exact words, and they still hurt as much now as they had done the first time. Sure, they were different species, but so what? So were elves and goblin, yet they were allowed to intermix. Apparently humans were good enough to save your civilisation a few times, but not good enough to date. Not good enough to love.

_And the sun will set for you  
The sun will set for you  
And the shadow of the day  
Will embrace the world in grey  
And the sun will set for you_

She had informed him that they were still allowed to talk – she'd insisted on it. The part of his mind that wasn't paralysed with disbelief was screaming at her. _Why didn't you insist on being able to see me?_ He knew that he was being unreasonable – it wasn't Holly's fault – but he didn't much care. He'd just stood there, numb, until she'd flown past him. He'd closed the window behind her, but he couldn't bring himself to lock it. She might come back. She might decide to fight for him after all.

_And the shadow of the day  
Will embrace the world in grey  
And the sun will set for you_

That had been almost a week ago, and he hadn't spoken to her since. He'd snapped at his brothers, been rude to his parents, and shut himself in his room. Eventually, Butler had coaxed the truth out of him, and had told the boy that 'a clean break heals best'. So now Artemis was ignoring Holly's more and more frantic calls, though it was getting harder with each desperate message Holly left. The ring stopped vibrating, and Artemis breathed a sigh of relief. A clean break. He would have nothing more to do with Hol...

_And the shadow of the day  
Will embrace the world in grey  
And the sun will set for you_

The phone rang again, sounding impatient. Or maybe that was Artemis projecting. He wouldn't answer it. He wouldn't, no matter how much he may want to speak to her again, to talk to her to see her... No! He should throw the ring away. Then he couldn't hear it, and it couldn't drive him insane. He reached out, but as soon as his fingertips brushed the metal, his resolve vanished. He slipped it onto his finger and answered it, voice trembling slightly.

"Hello, Holly."

"Artemis! Thank Frond, I've been so worried! Why weren't you answering?"

Artemis ran over all the reasons in his head, and couldn't think of a single thing to tell her that wouldn't sound pathetic. Strange, his reasoning had been so solid only seconds before. Instead, he sighed, and spoke from the heart.

"I miss you."

So what if it wasn't a clean break? If a fracture takes longer to heal, don't you also spend more time with it? And right then, he knew that he'd never give up. He'd fight for her, because she was the only person who could infuriate him and make him want to protect her all at once. And any time that they had, would be enough for him.


	3. Leave Out All The Rest

This is based during TAI, from Artemis Fowl Senior's pov. Sort of his epiphany.  
Skullduck: We own nothing. The characters belong ot Eoin Colfer, and the song is by Linkin Park. Again.  
Me: Cus they're awesome. Thanks again to Dutchman02 for the idea for this fic. I do take song requests if anyone has any. My music knowledge is limited, to say the least. Please, R&R.

* * *

**Leave Out All The Rest**

_I dreamed I was missing  
You were so scared  
But no one would listen  
Cause no one else cared_

Artemis Fowl Senior awoke screaming. It took him a few seconds to realise what it was that he was saying. He was repeating his wife's name over and over, like a mantra. No one came. The Russians had learned by now not to come when he screamed. It was never anything more than a nightmare, and after all, they were not babysitters. Kidnapping and mollycoddling are two very different things, and they were not being paid to keep the Irish millionaire comfortable.

_After my dreaming  
I woke with this fear  
What am I leaving  
When I'm done here_

Eventually, Artemis got his heart and his mouth back under control. His pulse returned to normal slowly, and he gasped for air as if he'd actually run the miles back to Ireland, back to his Manor and his family. Back to Angeline. She was probably the only one missing him. Well, Arty too, but the boy wouldn't show it. He was a Fowl, and Fowls did not show emotions. It could be perceived as a weakness, and Fowls were not weak. Artemis Senior groaned and let his head drop into his hands. What sort of legacy had he left for his son? What sort of example had he set?

_So if you're asking me  
I want you to know  
When my time comes  
Forget the wrong that I've done  
Help me leave behind some  
Reasons to be missed_

If he never got out of here, which seemed more likely with every day that passed, how would he be remembered? A heartless criminal, an obsessive businessman? A man who abandoned his family for gold? Was that really how he'd been?

_And don't resent me  
And when you're feeling empty  
Keep me in your memory  
Leave out all the rest  
Leave out all the rest_

He hoped that his family, at least, would remember him differently. He had been loving once, and Angeline had smiled and laughed with him. She had loved him for his personality. His caring side. What had happened to that the last few years? He shook his head in self-loathing. He'd abandoned his wife and son in the pursuit of gold and crime. What sort of a swap was that? And worse, he'd done it willingly. Yet still Angeline had stood by him. He didn't deserve her.

_Don't be afraid  
I've taken my beating  
I've shared what I made_

Well, if he ever got out of here, if he ever saw his wife and son again, then he'd change. Angeline was always asking him to quit the illegal enterprises, to pay more attention to his son. Once, she'd asked him if he even knew who Arty was. At the time, he'd responded with a snide look and a curt 'He's my son. What else is there?' Now, he thought back, and came to the conclusion that the longest conversation he'd ever had with the boy was about gold and shares. Angeline was right. He didn't know his son.

_I'm strong on the surface  
Not all the way through  
I've never been perfect  
But neither have you_

The boy was the spitting image of himself at that young age, so formal and emotionless. So strong, at least outwardly. So like himself. Artemis Senior had always maintained an upright, businesslike exterior, even if inside he was being torn apart. The first time he'd seen Angeline, he'd fallen in love with her, yet instead of going over and introducing himself like a normal man, he'd sent his bodyguard to accost her. What sort of a first meeting was that? No, Artemis Fowl was far from perfect. Of course, Angeline wasn't either; the woman had no head for business, wanting to engage in every humanitarian appeal that she came across. Even if he wasn't a criminal billionaire, he wouldn't have allowed it. They'd soon be in need of charity themselves. However, turning them _all_ down... He'd have to rectify the situation when he got home. If he got home.

_So if you're asking me  
I want you to know  
When my time comes  
Forget the wrong that I've done  
Help me leave behind some  
Reasons to be missed_

"Help me, Angeline" he muttered, lifting his head to stare at the ceiling. He didn't want to be this cold, heartless person anymore. He wanted to be the man she'd fallen in love with, the man who'd learned slowly to woo her. He'd been dreadful at first, but she'd taught him patience and tenderness. She'd made him better. And he'd turned his back on it all when he'd taken over the Fowl Empire.

_Don't resent me  
And when you're feeling empty  
Keep me in your memory  
Leave out all the rest  
Leave out all the rest_

He hoped that Angeline would forgive him. And Arty; what would the boy think? How would his son react to a new, legal Empire? To his wife, this would be merely the old Timmy re-emerging, but to his son this would be a completely different man. A better one? He hoped so.

_Forgetting  
All the hurt inside  
You've learned to hide so well_

Artemis Fowl sat up as straight as the chains keeping him on the bed allowed him. He'd learned a lot in the past days – weeks, months? – he'd been here. Cruelty. Pain. Loss. Fear. All the repressed emotions built up in the man's chest, and they felt like they were choking him. Was this what he'd been carrying around with him? How could his body have taken all of this? It was time to stop hiding from himself. Time to allow his real self – the person Angeline loved – to see the world.

_Pretending  
Someone else can come and save me from myself  
I can't be who you are_

He knew now what was important, and it wasn't gold. It wasn't crime, or the Fowl Empire. It was what he'd left behind all those years ago. It was his wife and son. His family. His safety net. Angeline, the woman who'd taught him to open his eyes. She'd saved him from his self-damnation once; that was why he'd married her. Now, she was saving him again, but this time he wouldn't throw it away.

_When my time comes  
Forget the wrong that I've done  
Help me leave behind some  
Reasons to be missed_

Angeline may be the only one who missed him right now – the real him, not the businessman who sidelined as a father – but that wouldn't be the case again. If he ever got out of here, he would change his life around. He would give his wife a reason to love him, and he would give his son the attention he deserved. He would learn to know his family again.

_Don't resent me  
And when you're feeling empty  
Keep me in your memory  
Leave out all the rest  
Leave out all the rest_

Artemis closed his eyes and lay down, covering his shaking body with the raggedy blanket. It wasn't the cold that was making him shiver; it was the realisation of his own callousness. He hoped that Angeline still loved him. He hoped she still remembered him – the good parts. He hoped that he'd get the chance to hold her and kiss her again, just one more time. When he'd left the last time, he hadn't told her he loved her. He hadn't even said goodbye.

_Forgetting  
All the hurt inside  
You've learned to hide so well  
Pretending  
Someone else can come and save me from myself  
I can't be who you are_

He allowed himself to drift off to sleep, Angeline's face in his thoughts. He could never be as loving and as good as she was – it wasn't part of him. But maybe she could make him better. Maybe she could make him more than he was alone. Maybe...

_I can't be who you are_


	4. All I Have To Give

Hi, back again. Thanks for the awesome ideas for songs, I'll be using those shortly, giving credit where credit's due. This one is set after TTP, in the universe in my head where Artemis and Holly are together. I haven't actually used any names in this, I don't think, so if you can't work it out then let me know. I know who I'm talking about...  
Thanks to hopelily and ilex-ferox for their imput in making this better. I hope I succeeded. If not, PM me.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Characters are by Eoin Colfer and the song is by the Backstreet Boys.

* * *

**All I Have To Give**

_I don't know what he does to make you cry  
But I'll be there to make you smile  
I don't have a fancy car  
To get to you I'd walk a thousand miles  
I don't care if he buys you nice things  
Does his gifts come from the heart  
I don't know but if you were my girl  
I'd make it so we'd never be apart_

I look at her as she enters my office, scrutinising her surreptitiously. She thinks that I'm looking at the wrinkles in her uniform, and smoothes them out self-consciously. I let her think it; I don't want to explain to her that what I'm actually looking at is her figure, showing under the new (tighter) female uniforms. I cough into a fist and raise my eyes to her face. Her eyes capture my attention, but not for the reasons they once did. Once, both were her warm hazel, deep enough to drown in. Now, her left is cold, blue, hard as diamond. Even her fiery personality cannot warm it. She is contaminated by him. No, not contaminated, more enamoured. He buys her flashy gifts; last week I saw the necklace he sent her. It was platinum, encrusted with emeralds. I don't think she's taken it off since he gave it to her.

_But my love is all I have to give  
Without you I don't think I can live  
I wish I could give the world to you but  
Love is all I have to give_

She always seems to forget about the bad times, the times he made her cry, the times her hurt her. I don't forget them. I was the one she turned to when that happened; I saw what he did to her. I was her shoulder to cry on, her best friend. Now, I'm just the Commander, barely even an acquaintance. She spends all her time either above ground or with Foaly. I would deny her the surface visits, but I see how she gets when she has to stay down here. I cannot make her unhappy.  
She tilts her head to one side and says my name uncertainly. I snap back to the present, and grimace. Here I am, dwelling on how much I hate her Mud Man, and now I am about to ask her to contact him. I have a problem, and it requires both genius and an aboveground contact. I'm about to put her into his hands again, further away from me. I can only hope that he'll do something exceedingly foolish and selfish, sending her back into here in a temper. Back to me.

_When you talk does it seem like he's not  
Even listening to a word you say  
That's okay baby, just tell me your problems  
I'll try my best to kiss them all away  
Does he leave when you need him the most  
Does his friends get all your time  
Baby please I'm on my knees  
Praying for the day that you'll be mine_

I tell her what I want, and her face lights up. Her fingers trace her collarbone, where I know the neclace resides. I don't think she relaises that she's doing it. I cough, and her hand drops. Suddenly, she's all buisness again.  
She tries to conceal her delight at being ordered directly to visit her illicit boyfriend, but I can see through to her real feelings. I can always see the true her; see when she's happy, when she's hurt. Maybe that's why she comes to me. She knows that I will give her my complete and undivided attention, and that I will understand. Unlike him. He ignores her for days at a time, then calls and apologises, saying that Minerva had occupied his attention for a time, or that some invention or other reached a critical time, and he couldn't drag himself away. Doesn't he see how special she is?

_But my love is all I have to give  
Without you I don't think I can live  
I wish I could give the world to you but  
Love is all I have to give to you  
I don't want you to cry no more inside  
All the money in the world  
Could never add up to all the love I have inside_

He thinks that he can buy her affections with expensive gifts, like platinum and emeralds. I know she takes them, but it is because of who sent them not what they are. If it was the expense that impressed her, then I would be royally screwed. I may be Commander, but my salary is still nowhere near enough to afford anything like that.  
I know it is not the jewels though. Somehow, the human has stolen her heart. She loves him, or she thinks she does. Does he love her? Maybe is the only answer I have. Even if he does, his feelings could not be as strong as mine are. I'm bordering on obsession. If love were riches, I would be the wealthiest fairy on the planet, or under it. But I have nothing except my feelings, which I know are not reciprocated. Not right now, at least.  
My one consolation in all of this is that he is human, with a limited lifespan. Let her have her few decades of frivolity. In the end, the Mud Man's mortality will catch up with him, and she will return to my arms for comfort. She'll be mine once more, and I can finally tell her the three words that he could never truly mean, not in the way that I do.

_But my love is all I have to give  
Without you I don't think I can live  
I wish I could give the world to you but  
Love is all I have to give_


	5. What If I Kissed You Now

I'm back! I haven't disappeared, there are updates for other stuff coming, promise, but in the meantime here's another songfic. Possibly the longest one I've ever written, with more than one flashback, so if it doesn't make sense, please let me know. It hasn't been beta'd. Warning to the canon nazis: it's probably OOC, though hopefully not by much. It's set after TLC, as if a ball is being held for the safe return of Hybras and Holly/Artemis. I am well aware that this does not, and is never likely to happen in the books, but hey, it's fanfiction, I can write what I want. This is a fluff peice, because that's the mood I'm in, and it's A/H. Enjoy!

The characters belong to Eoin Colfer, and the song (in italics) is by Darin Zanyar. Listen to it, it's beautiful.

* * *

_So here we are  
Trying to talk some sense into our hearts  
This can't be love  
We're best of friends and that should be enough  
But if that's true  
Tell me why I'm holding on to you  
Like I'd never let you go_

Holly spun in a slow circle, hands on her partner's waist. It was as high s she could comfortably reach, dancing with Butler. She was well aware of how bizarre the pair of them looked, and of the snickers coming from the corner of the room, but she chose to ignore them for now and concentrated on avoiding Butler's feet. If he trod on her toes, accident or not, she'd be limping until her magic kicked in.

The song ended, and the odd pair wound their way back to where Artemis was standing with Foaly and Mulch. The dwarf was very red in the face, both from laughter and the amount of alcohol he'd consumed. Holly punched him in the upper arm, and he scowled, rubbing his abused muscle.

"There was no need for that, Holls."

"Don't call me Holls" she snapped at him. "It's Holly. And I think you've had enough to drink" she added, taking the glass of wine from him before he could swig it. He pouted at her.

"What, are you my mother now? I'm older than you are _Holly_, and I know my limits. Now, give that back."

He reached for the glass, tripped over his own feet, and collapsed in a heap. Holly rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, you're perfectly sober."

Trouble appeared at her shoulder. He peered down at the cursing dwarf, amused.

"What did you do to the convict?"

"I. Was. Acquitted!" Mulch called up. Foaly whinnied in amusement.

"With the help of Mister Fowl here. I've done some digging, dwarf, and I know exactly what happened."

He threw a look over his shoulder at Artemis, who was lingering at the back of the group. The boy shrugged one shoulder, nonchalant. Holly narrowed her eyes at him.

"What did you do, Fowl?"

He was saved answering by Foaly. The centaur pointed at the dance floor and spoke in voice that carried through the whole room.

"Holly, remember your word. You and Mudboy need to dance, go!"

_What if I kissed you now  
And turned it all around?  
What if I kissed you now  
And stars fell to the ground?  
Would I be losing you, if I do, would you want me too?  
What if I kissed you now  
What if I do?_

Artemis watched Holly and Butler rotate on the spot, and a smirk twitched on the corners of his lips. They looked ridiculous, he almost double her height, she much more graceful than him. Still, the boy mused, it wasn't often that body guarding threw up the need to be elegant. Threatening, yes, refined, rarely. He knew that if he were out there instead of Butler, the sight would be just as odd. Kidnapper and kidnapped, human and elf. And Mulch would find it just as hysterical.

The dwarf doubled over laughing as Holly was forced to backtrack rapidly to avoid having her toes crushed. The song ended and the pair made their way towards him. Holly went to chastise Mulch for laughing, and Butler stood at Artemis's side.

"Having fun?" the youth asked. Butler nodded.

"Holly's good. Her father taught her."

Artemis looked up in surprise.

"How did you know that?"

"I asked her. You might want to try it sometime. Girls like it when men show interest in them."

Artemis was about to answer scathingly when he heard his name.

"With the help of Mister Fowl here. I've done some digging, dwarf, and I know exactly what happened."

Foaly threw a look over one shoulder at Artemis. He didn't bother trying to deny helping Mulch escape prison, nobody would believe him. He shrugged. Holly narrowed her eyes at him.

"What did you do, Fowl?"

He was saved answering by Foaly. The centaur pointed at the dance floor and spoke in voice that carried through the whole room.

"Holly, remember your word. You and Mudboy need to dance, go!"

Artemis shot the centaur a look of deepest loathing. He had hoped that Foaly would be satisfied by Butler's dancing with the elf, that seemed to have given everyone a great deal of amusement. Apparently not. It looked as if he was taking her literally.

Years ago, when Holly had been ordered to bring Artemis and Butler to Haven for the first time, she had had a conversation with Foaly that she had forgotten all about. Root had just left the room, and she and the centaur were alone surrounded by boxes of batteries. Holly had kicked the base of one of the boxes and exhaled sharply through her nose.

"Bringing humans down to the lower elements. I don't believe it. Especially _those_ humans. This is a bad idea."

Foaly shot her a look.

"It was your idea."

"I didn't think they'd be invited belowground! Artemis Fowl anywhere near Haven is bad enough, but right inside Police Plaza! Why can't I mesmerise the truth out of them from up there?"

"Because Julius said so. Besides, I'd get used to the idea if I were you."

Holly frowned at him.

"What?"

Foaly shrugged and moved a handful of batteries from one crate to another.

"I've got a feeling about Fowl. I mean, he's the first human to ever outwit the People. He's the first human to ever be invited underground. He'll probably be the first human to attend the LEP Christmas ball."

Holly laughed.

"Yeah, right. Humans at a fairy dance. Tell you what Foaly. If that ever happens, I'll dance with them both, and you can record it."

"Seriously?"

Holly shrugged.

"Sure. It's never gonna happen, so why not?"

Root bellowed her name from outside the room, asking, not too politely, why she wasn't on her way to Fowl Manor yet. She sighed and left, promptly forgetting all about the conversation. Trust Foaly to remember it six years later and force her to carry out said promise.

_What's going on?  
Someone's gone and change our special song  
They dimmed our light  
See them shine, like planets in our eyes  
Here it comes  
All that I've been missing for so long  
I could never let you go_

Holly looked at Artemis, and he got the impression she'd put off dancing with him for as long as possible. When the centaur had brought it up, she'd argued, then when Trouble and Mulch ganged up on her, she'd given up and grabbed Butler's arm, practically dragging him onto the dance floor. She sighed, swallowed the wine she'd confiscated from Mulch, and held her hand out to Artemis.

"Coming?"

He sighed and held her wrist, rather than her fingers, allowing her to drag him onto the dance floor. From the corner of his eye he could see Foaly setting his camera up, and Trouble and Mulch conspiring. Trouble sniggered and slunk away. Artemis had a bad feeling about this, but was given little time to ponder it, as Holly was manoeuvring him to face her. At least it wasn't a slow song, so they could get away with barely touching. Artemis wasn't certain why Holly wanted the distance, probably because of the cackling emerging from behind the camera, but he was glad of it.

Recently, since the stabbing on Hybras, he'd found himself waking in a cold sweat, reliving Holly's death in his nightmares. Sometimes, the dream changed and his attempts to save her failed. He saw her blank eyes staring at him, and he held her close and cried, before waking with tears on his face and a fierce pain in his chest. He'd spoken briefly to Butler about these dreams, and the manservant had come to the conclusion that Artemis had feelings for Holly. That he was scared of losing her. Well, the second may be true, but the first was surely Butler's imagination. He didn't want to lose Holly because she was his closest friend. That was it...wasn't it?

Suddenly, the faster song stopped, and a slow, romantic song began to play. Holly shot a glare at the DJ, and saw Trouble standing behind the pixie, grinning. He saw her glance and shot her a thumbs-up. She scowled at him and turned to Foaly who mimed dancing then pointed at her. She sighed and looked back at Artemis.

_What if I kissed you now  
And turned it all around?  
What if I kissed you now  
And stars fell to the ground?  
Would I be losing you, if I do, would you want me too?  
What if I kissed you now  
What if I do? _

Artemis and Holly stepped closer, gingerly placing their arms around each other. Artemis's hands wound up on her waist, hers on his chest (she couldn't quite reach his shoulders). Slowly, they turned on the spot, avoiding each other's eyes. Holly saw Mulch watching and shot some rather unpleasant sign language at him. The dwarf grinned at her. At least he wasn't laughing this time.

_Oh, did I leave it for too long?  
Has the moment that I dreamed of come and gone?  
Time will tell, but I know this much is true  
I don't wanna dream of anyone but you_

Foaly, Mulch and Butler stood together, watching Holly and Artemis approach each other. Mulch sighed.

"They're acting as if they're going to break if they touch."

"Maybe they are" Butler said. The dwarf looked at him, bemused. He sighed.

"Haven't you seen the way they keep looking at each other?"

Mulch thought about it for a second, then shrugged. "So?"

Foaly kicked the dwarf in the shin.

"So, they're confused. They like each other."

Mulch sniggered a little at this.

"Holly fall for a human? Yeah, right."

Holly chose this moment to swear across the room at Mulch. He grinned, as if that proved his point.

"See?"

Foaly and Butler looked at each other and decided to drop it.

_What if I kissed you now  
And turned it all around  
What if I kissed you now  
And stars fell to the ground?  
Would I be losing you, if I do, would you want me too?  
What if I kissed you now  
What if I do? _

Back on the dance floor, Holly and Artemis were slowly getting more comfortable with the situation they found themselves in. Neither coped well with enforced intimacy, but gradually they accustomed themselves to each other, and their awkward, ungainly steps became more fluid, more elegant, more relaxed. Artemis chanced a glance down at Holly, and found her looking at him. She smiled self-consciously, but Artemis hardly noticed. He stared at her eyes, more accurately at his own blue one. It was odd to see his own eye looking back at him, a part now of someone else. Of Holly. He had part of her too, he realised, thinking of the hazel eye that stared back at him from the mirror every morning. He could never lose her; all he had to do was look in the mirror. Suddenly, his dreams seemed less frightening.

He smiled back at her and pulled her a little closer. She looked startled by his sudden intimacy, but didn't protest. She rested her cheek against his torso and closed her eyes. Artemis watched her, an odd feeling in his chest. His dreams were nothing like this. In them, when he held her she was limp and cold, and he was always left with a sense of loss. Now, with a warm, relaxed Holly embracing him back, he realised what the feeling was. He bent and brushed his lips across her hair.

_What if I kissed you now  
And turned it all around  
What if I kissed you now  
And stars fell to the ground?  
Would I be losing you, if I do, would you want me too?  
What if I kissed you now  
What if I do?_

Holly felt pressure against the top of her head, and pulled back far enough to see Artemis's face. Had he just kissed her? She let her arms drop and stopped the dancing. He frowned at her.

"Did I do something wrong?"

She looked at him properly for the first time all evening. He was wearing a black suit (no change there then), but there was something different. Maybe it was the alcohol affecting her judgement, but did he seem less tense than usual? Then she pinpointed it. The look in his eyes was different – for once, there was no second agenda, no deceit. She glanced at the people watching (the crowd had grown dramatically; most people had stopped dancing to watch the two of them), and saw them whispering to each other. He had kissed her. She looked back at him, and caught his arm and he turned away.

"No. Nothing's wrong."

He looked at her, the hurt disappearing from his face. She smiled at him, stood on tiptoe (steadying herself against his chest) and brushed her lips across his. The song ended, and the room froze in stunned silence for several seconds. Then, Foaly wolf-whistled, a few people laughed, and another song started, faster this time. Most of the crowd, assuming the show was over, returned to the dance floor, leaving Butler, Foaly and Trouble grinning at the pair from the sidelines. Mulch was too busy gaping to tease them. Foaly elbowed the dwarf in the ribs and muttered "told you so".

Holly turned back to Artemis, whose expression greatly resembled Mulch's. She loosened her grip on his shoulders.

"Did I do something wrong?"

He caught her arms as she lowered them and took her hands in his.

"No." He smiled and leaned down. "Nothing's wrong."

He pressed his lips to hers.


	6. You And Me

Hey, back again this time with H/T fluff set directly after the end of TLC. I know people hate these author notes, so I'll make it brief; huge thanks to the fantastic Candian guy who beta'd this and who suggested the song. This would never have happened without you.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. the characters belong to Eoin Colfer, and the song is You and Me by Lifehouse.  
I removed the lyrics, because, as Kit Heart pointed out, they don't really add anything to the story. But, please listen to the song while reading it, because the lyrics are beautiful.  
Liris  
xxx

* * *

Holly walked into Police Plaza, ignoring all the stares and whispers that followed her down the corridors. Vinyaya had requested her presence for a 'formal debriefing', and decided that the best place for it to take place would be in Sool's old office. _Frond only knows why_ Holly thought, and walked by Chix Verbil who had frozen in the centre of the corridor to stare at her. He blinked as she passed him and turned on the spot, grabbing her arm. He let go very quickly when he saw the glare she levelled at him.

"Holly! You're back!"

Holly nodded, unsure how to proceed. She and Chix had never seen eye to eye (his gaze rarely made it higher than her chest), but here he was sounding genuinely relieved to see her. His exclamation seemed to break whatever spell had been cast, and soon she was surrounded by people all wanting to congratulate her on saving the world again, or speculate about her new eye, or just generally speak to her. As she looked at the faces surrounding her, she was certain that she'd never seen at least half of them before. Last time she'd walked through these corridors, she'd known every face by sight, if not by name. The force had changed minutely in the time the she'd been working as a PI, but she'd still known vaguely who was who. Now, knowing that most of the elves and sprites surrounding her knew her only by reputation drove home, more than anything else, exactly how long she'd been gone. Suddenly, despite the fact that she was pressed in so close on all sides that her claustrophobia was beginning to kick in, she felt alone.

Chix was pressed closest to her, which he seemed to be enjoying. His hand was currently on her waist, and if it moved even one inch lower she was going to snap his arm at the elbow. Luckily for Verbil, who had been contemplating doing exactly that, Vinyaya appeared and yelled at the crowd, gradually quieting the babble.

"I'm sure Captain Short is very flattered by all this attention, but don't you fairies have work to do? Come on, let the girl breathe. Back to your desks, people. Verbil, that includes you."

Chix cast a longing look at Holly, but backed down and slunk away. In a surprisingly short amount of time, Holly and Vinyaya were alone in the corridor. Holly smiled at the Wing Commander.

"Thank you."

Vinyaya smiled at her and began to lead her towards the Commander's office.

"You were missed, Captain. By one fairy in particular."

Holly grimaced.

"Yeah, I saw Chix. He was lucky there wasn't enough room in that mob for me to hit him, or he'd have a bloody nose right now."

Vinyaya laughed a little at that and shook her head.

"I wasn't talking about Private Verbil."

The pair drew to a halt outside the Commander's office, and Vinyaya threw the door open. Inside, reclining on the swivel chair and with his feet propped up on the desk was Trouble Kelp. He grinned at Holly and stood, boots hitting the floor with distinct thuds. Holly grinned back, showing a lot of teeth, and walked slowly to his side.

"Commander Kelp, I take it?"

He nodded, looking her up and down. She was still in her torn and bloodied shimmer suit, fresh off the shuttle from aboveground. He saw a rather large tear over her chest, but decided not to enquire with Vinyaya listening. He turned to face the older elf.

"Thank you, Wing Commander. Could I have a word with Short in private please?"

Vinyaya nodded, trying and failing to hide her smirk.

"I'll be in my office, when you're done."

She winked and closed the door. Trouble turned back to Holly, who was appraising him with her eyebrows raised.

"Short?"

He swallowed and forced his gaze away from the rip in the suit.

"You're her officer, not mine."

Holly looked at the floor. This wasn't the grand reunion she had been expecting, even if, so far as she was concerned, she'd spoken to him just three days earlier. Trouble watched her for a second before speaking again.

"Of course, if you'd like to change that, we could work something out."

She glanced up sharply, meeting his gaze with her own mismatched eyes. He could see the excitement shining in them, even through his shock at her sudden heterochromia.

"Really?"

He nodded, and she laughed delightedly, throwing her arms around his neck. For a second, he just stood there stunned, but then he wrapped his arms around her and picked her up, spinning her round in a circle. He set her back on the floor, and she pulled away, though she was still close enough to touch if he flexed his fingers. They were both grinning. Trouble decided that, as Holly had initiated first contact, she probably wouldn't punch him for what he was about to do. He brushed his thumb lightly under her left eye; the new blue one.

"What happened here?"

Holly looked confused for a moment, but then she remembered what had happened in the time tunnel.

"There was an accident when we were travelling home. I have one of Artemis's eyes."

Trouble let his hand fall and pouted.

"I'm not sure how I feel about that."

Holly took a step backwards.

"It won't affect my performance; I can see normally. I can still shoot and..."

Trouble chuckled and shook his head.

"I didn't mean that. When I pictured us meeting up again, I didn't envision you with the human's eye. It's creepy."

Holly narrowed her eyes at him, unsure whether or not to be insulted. He saw the danger signs and quickly changed the subject.

"It hasn't been long for you, has it?"

Holly blinked and shook her head.

"No. A couple of days."

"Well, for me it's been three years." He closed the gap between them and brushed some of the remaining ash from the end of her nose. "I missed you."

Holly felt his fingertips brush her skin, heard the tenderness in his tone, and didn't know how to react. All through the years they'd known each other, he'd been tough and stoic. Friendly, certainly, but always kind of...distant. To have this gentle side of him show was new to her. She liked it.

Trouble moved his hand to her cheek, but resisted the urge to do more. He'd always been fond of Holly, had thought of her as a good friend. Sure, when she went on dangerous missions he worried, but that was because he cared about his friends, wasn't it? It wasn't until Foaly had told him that she and Artemis had been transported to Hybras, the dimension that was _imploding_, that he realised what was really happening. The absolute panic that had gripped his insides, that had made him feel physically sick, was his first big clue. The second was the feeling he got when he thought about never seeing her again; it was like his blood had been replaced with ice, freezing him from the inside out. Somehow, the untouchable, macho tough-guy Trouble Kelp had fallen in love with the biggest tomboy on the force.

Holly saw the look in his eyes, and it took her a second to realise what it was. Longing. He wanted more than this; the casual touch on her cheek became tenser with each passing second, and his free hand was clenched into a fist by his side. She didn't think he knew he was doing it. She turned her face into the contact and brushed her lips across his palm.

Trouble's eyes widened and he jerked his hand back to his side. Holly stumbled backwards into a wall, shocked by his sudden movement. He rubbed his fingertips against his palm, relishing the tingling sensation her lips had left behind. _She likes me back_. Then he realised that she was leaning against the wall by the door, eyes wide and scared. He took a step towards her.

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting that." Even to his own ears, the excuse sounded lame. Holly didn't seem reassured; she reached for the door handle, muttering an apology. Trouble took three steps to her side and held the door closed. She looked at him, cautious. Had she just blown her chance at getting back into Recon? Or worse, had she wrecked her friendship with one of her closest friends?

He put his hand back on her cheek and brushed his thumb across her skin. Tiny blue sparks jumped from his hand into her skin, targeting her eyes and removing the moisture that had gathered in the corners.

"Don't cry, please."

He leant forward and kissed the cheek that wasn't hidden by his hand. She didn't pull away; if anything she moved closer. Her hand covered his, holding him in place, and she turned her head until their lips were level.

"What do you want Trouble?"

With her that close to him, sharing the same breath, the answer was obvious.

"I want you to kiss me."

Holly smiled and closed the gap. Her hands wove their way to his neck and she pulled him closer, making small noises under her breath. His free hand moved from the door to her waist, and he pushed her back to the wall.

In the Ops Booth, Foaly switched on the camera in the Commander's office. For a second, he couldn't think why Trouble would be leaning against the door, but then the Commander's head ducked down and he saw Holly, looking as though she was thoroughly enjoying herself. He quickly switched the camera off, grinning. _About time too._ He made a mental note to rib them both about it later.

* * *

Trouble moved his attention from Holly's mouth to her neck, kissing and nibbling. She giggled and pulled him closer, allowing her hands to wander down his shoulders and chest. So he wasn't the most built elf in the world; she could live without a few muscles. His hand moved from her waist to explore the tear in her uniform, and the sound she made caused both of them to grin. He looked up from the hickey on her neck and smiled widely.

"We probably shouldn't be doing this here."

"No" she agreed, "probably not. We're in the middle of Police Plaza. And I have to meet Vinyaya."

Trouble sighed and let her go. She grinned.

"It's almost time for lunch. How do you feel about going back to mine?"

He frowned.

"I don't particularly want to eat your three-year-old food, thanks anyway."

She shook her head and brushed her lips against his.

"Who mentioned eating?"

She laughed at the look on his face and slipped out the door. He hesitated for a moment, then charged out of his office to the Ops Booth.

"Foaly, I'm going to lunch. I'll be back later, hold down the fort, will you?"

He shouted this through a crack in the door and all but ran out of Police Plaza. Foaly grinned. Oh yeah, there was going to be some major teasing later. They were giving him so much ammunition, how could he not?

* * *

Holly opened the door to Vinyaya's office. The older elf looked up from her paperwork and narrowed her eyes in confusion.

"Holly. What are you doing here?"

"You asked to see me?"

Comprehension dawned in Vinyaya's eyes.

"I think the debriefing can wait, Captain. Go home and relax. I'll see you tomorrow. For tonight, just enjoy yourself."

Holly grinned.

"I will Commander."

She was out of the building before the office door had fully closed.


	7. Shatter version 1

Hey, back again with another long 'songfic'. This is seven pages on Word. There are no lyrics, because they have little to do with the plot, but it's set to 'Shatter' by OAR (thanks to Brightfrost for the song). This is part one of two, both using the same song. This is the original version, and is happier than the alternate version, which is very depressing and includes character death. So, I'll post this one first and the alternate-ending version will be up next. Please, read both and tell me which you prefer. If it confuses you, let me know. I haven't used any names...  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

She walks through the city centre, her gaze on her feet. Her toes dip into a hole in the pavement; the council haven't renovated this part of town in years, and potholes litter the sidewalk, threatening a twisted ankle with each step. She'd almost relish it if she did fall; at least it would be a feeling. It's been so long since she's truly felt anything. All her emotions, once so vibrant and alive, now lie dormant. The most anybody gets out of her these days is a half-hearted nod or shake of the head, or if she's feeling particularly apathetic, a shrug that barely shakes her shoulders. Her friends worry, but if asked, she merely says that she's fine, just tired. After several months of the same response, people have stopped asking after her health.

* * *

He sits at his bedroom window, staring out at the rain. His thoughts are, for once, mercifully absent, and he watches the water drip down the glass, liking the numbness. He feels insulated, protected from the outside world. From his memories, which will insist on intruding on his rare moments of serenity and shattering his patience. Though often happy, even joyous, they infuriate him because they are of previous, better times. Times when he had the right company and the right inspiration to do what he does best. He hasn't written, or played the piano, or even spoken at length to anybody for so long now. He just sits in his room and watches the outside world, occasionally getting angry enough at his own inability to function that he throws things. After the third vase shattered against the door, everything breakable was moved out of his room. His family are beginning to seriously fear for his mental health, but he refuses to see a doctor. After what seems like an eternity of being snapped at, everyone has taken to leaving him alone.

* * *

When the decision was first made, she had fought against it with everything she had. She had been placed under house arrest, had her job threatened, and still she wouldn't give in. Then they played their ace card. If she was so insistent to break the rules, then they would remove the temptation. They'd even gone so far as to call the best assassin in the business before she finally yielded. She would obey their stupid rules if they would leave him be. Surely, it was better to know that he was alive and not be able to see him, than for him to be dead and it to be her fault. She could live with the former, but not the latter. She would have no more deaths on her conscience.

At first, everyone thought that she was coping fine; she went about her life like normal and, though her every move was closely watched, she showed no signs of breaking her word and visiting him. She went so far as to cut off all methods of communication with him, which pleased them no end. They reduced their constant surveillance to occasional spot-checks, and finally removed it altogether. She seemed a little downtrodden, but that was the general idea, wasn't it? To bring her into line. Well, they accomplished that. All it took was killing her spirit.

* * *

He hits his head off the glass, trying to stop the memories from overwhelming him again. It doesn't work. Her face floats to the front of his mind, her eyes shining, her lips curled up in a smile. He clenches his left hand into a fist. How dare she be so happy when he is so miserable? How dare she move on with her life and leave him stranded in the past, unable to advance and unwilling to backtrack? He slams his fist into the glass over and over until spider web cracks emanate from the repeated impacts. He inspects his bruised knuckles; a little blood oozes from tiny cuts, but it doesn't really hurt. Physical pain doesn't do a lot to him anymore; his heartache is too intense. He is in constant internal anguish, what are a few scratches?

He glares out at the rain, but it's no longer soothing. Now he fancies that it's mocking him, declaring its freedom, its ability to go anywhere and do anything. Versatility. It was his best trait at one point, but all his adaptive ability left him long ago. That's why he is stuck in limbo, why her leaving bothers him so. He longs for the numbness to return, but the sting in his left hand tells him that it won't. He grabs a jacket from the wardrobe and runs to the garage, pulling out onto the main road in his father's car seconds later. His family notice him leaving too late to do anything about it, and watch mutely as he speeds away, wondering if he will return, and trying to suppress the tiny guilty part of them that hopes he won't.

* * *

She finally tires of her aimless walk and sits on a nearby wall, still staring at her shoes like they hold the answer to her problems. She wishes it would rain where she is, so that there would be some physical manifestation of her mood; she seems incapable of expressing it herself. She thinks that maybe her misery is so complete that it is beyond what her body can display. Beyond what she can safely feel; is that why she feels nothing?

His face appears in front of her, lined up with the cracks on the pavement. She blinks and the image disappears, like it has so many times before. Part of her thinks that maybe she is going mad; most of her thinks that she's already there. Depression, the doctor said, and prescribed a small bottle of white pills. They are still sitting in her bathroom at home, unopened. She hasn't even broken the seal; enough of the old her remains to distrust the 'happy pills'. She thinks that maybe she should be happy about that, but the most she can manage is a vague feeling of contentment that fades much more quickly than it arrived. The old her, the spunky rebel, the girl with a razor-sharp attitude is gone, and this is what is left in her place. She doesn't much like what she has become, but she can't seem to bring herself to do anything about it. Acting on what tiny emotions she has requires energy, and that's something she ran out of long ago.

* * *

He drives fast and recklessly, some hazy part of his brain acknowledging that this is likely to get him killed, and not much caring about it. The idea of the drive was to stop the flood of memories that he doesn't want to relive yet again, but it doesn't seem to be working. His mind rewinds almost two years to the night he last spoke to her. It was dark when she called, which suited his mood perfectly. He knew about the restrictions they were trying to impose on her, and he knew she was fighting them with every step, but lately she'd been faltering; he'd heard the exhaustion in her tone, and her messages and calls were becoming less frequent. He didn't like it, but there wasn't much he could do from where he was. He answered the phone, knowing full well that it was her and that she was going to give him more bad news. What he didn't comprehend was how bad.

"I've had enough" were her opening words. No 'hello', no 'how are you'. Not even a complaint about the restrictions they were placing on her. She spoke so quietly too, that he couldn't be certain that he'd heard her correctly; he didn't want that to have been what she'd actually said. He'd told her, in his most authoritative tone (hoping to provoke a reaction and hear the voice he'd grown to love and respect yelling back at him) to repeat herself. She sighed minutely.

"I've had enough."

Her voice was clearer this time, and there was no mistaking the message she was delivering. She was giving up the fight; she was letting them beat her. He'd gaped for a few seconds, trying to process this. She never gave in; she was quite possibly the most stubborn person he knew. What had they done to her? She didn't let him recover enough to talk.

"Goodbye" she muttered into the phone, just loud enough for him to hear, and hung up. In the milliseconds before the click that told him he was speaking to a dial tone, he could have sworn he heard a sob. She was crying.

* * *

A hand descends onto her shoulder and squeezes lightly. She glances up from her bootlaces long enough to determine who is intruding on her solitude, then returns her attention to the floor. Maybe if she looks for long enough, the cracks will take on his appearance again. She knows it is pathetic, but she doesn't much care; she will take whatever small part of him she can get, even if it is a hallucination. A delusion is better than nothing.

Her companion sighs and sits beside her, throwing a comradely arm across her shoulders. It is meant to be comforting, she knows, but physical contact has long since ceased to soothe her. They watch her intently for any sign of a reaction, but find nothing. They sigh again, sounding exasperated, and pull her to her feet.

"Come on, let's sort you out."

She's not sure what they mean by that, and not entirely certain that she minds. She trusts her companion, or at least she used to when she trusted anything. Nowadays, she doesn't even have faith in herself. She allows them to tug her towards the nicer part of town, resigned to whatever they want her to do. It breaks her companion's heart. She used to have so much personality, so much passion. Now, she's a shell, a poor imitation of what she used to be. It's time to fix that.

* * *

Eventually, he realises that he has no idea where he is driving to, and pulls over. Maybe getting lost would not be such a bad thing. He could go somewhere nobody knows him and start over. Get a new identity and a new life. Could he do it? Could he leave her behind? Leave everything he knows and used to care about and start again? Certainly he cannot continue to live in limbo, and he cannot break free whilst surrounded by the familiarity of his home. Too much there reminds him of her. No, if he is ever going to recover, he needs to go away.

He starts the engine again and continues down the road, but he hasn't gone more than thirty feet when he realises where he is and allows the car to stall. It's the place he first saw her. He cannot see it from here, but he knows it's there, just out of sight over the hill. If his subconscious continually leads him to her, how can he ever escape? How can he ever start again?

He slumps back in his seat and closes his eyes, suddenly weary. He will be living like this forever; a shadow of his former self, always looking over his shoulder for the ghost of a girl he used to know. If he cannot escape her, then what is the point in trying? He turns the key in the ignition and circles the car around, heading for home.

* * *

She doesn't really process where she's going, letting her feet follow her companion while her mind dwells on that last phone call. Two years have passed almost, and still it breaks what's left of her heart every time she thinks about it. His silence, her tears, his disbelief. He never tried to get back in contact with her, that's what really hurts. He claimed to care for her, encouraged her to fight for him, but he didn't care enough to fight for her. She feels worse every time that conclusion forms in her mind, and retreats further into her own head, back to when they were happy together. Her movements falter, and she stumbles. Only the strong arms of her companion prevent her from falling to the ground.

"Oh no you don't."

She allows them to stand her upright again and push her through a set of double doors. She is inside, though she doesn't remember entering a building. In front of her is a desk, on which stand a phone and a piece of paper with writing on it. Her companion pushes her forward.

"Go ahead."

She approaches the desk cautiously, a little more of the old her peeking through. She gets close enough to read the paper. On it is a number, maybe ten or eleven digits long. It takes her a moment to place it, but when she does she feels faint. Why are they doing this to her now?

Her eyes widen in panic. Not the response her companion was wanting or expecting, but it's a response at least, and that's a start. She looks at them with real fear in her eyes, and speaks without prompting for the first time in four months.

"I can't."

Words, even better. Now to work on the outlook. 'I can't' is not a phrase that she's ever used before, except in defiance. This is not defiance, it's pleading. She never begs.

"You can. Go on."

They speak softly, not wanting to spook her back into her reclusive cocoon. She gulps and glances back at the number briefly before attempting to dart out of the door. They grab her around the waist, and she elbows them in the stomach. They grin, despite having the wind knocked out of them, and spin her back around to face the phone. She stumbles back to the desk and grips the edge to stop herself from falling. Her companion hunches over and clutches their stomach, but cannot stop from grinning. She's fighting again. Just a few seconds with his number has her behaving more like her old self, what will happen if she actually calls him?

She eyes the open door again, but doesn't attempt another escape. Instead she licks her lips and settles for grasping the desk behind her. She tries one last time to escape from the situation, this time using words.

"They'll kill him."

Her companion shakes their head.

"They've rescinded the order. You're free to contact him. So go on."

She blinks rapidly, trying to understand. She can call him? Speak to him, see him again? She shakes her head and swallows the sob that tries to escape her lips, but she cannot stop the tears from cascading down her cheeks. Her companion is at her side instantly, lack of air forgotten in the face of her misery.

"What's wrong? I thought you'd be happy."

She inhales shakily, trying to get enough air to verbalise her doubts.

"He...never...doesn't want..." She stops and takes several deep breaths, gaining control of her vocal cords. "He never tried to contact me. He doesn't want me."

She's said it, but she doesn't feel any better. If anything, it hurts more actually verbalising it. Knowing that he never loved her the way she loved him and admitting it are two very different things; if the former breaks her heart, then the latter shatters it. Her companion stands uncomprehending for a moment, then what she's said clicks.

"That's not true. After you cut off contact, all the calls to your number were routed through the mainframe. Any from his number were stopped before they reached your phone; he tried to call you almost constantly for two months. He loves you. He said as much in the dozens of voice messages he left for you."

She looks at her companion through waterlogged eyes.

"Really?"

They chuckle and release their grip on her shoulders.

"Do you want to hear the messages? They're all saved to disk somewhere. I could find them if you'd like."

She shakes her head and steps free of their embrace, turning her gaze to the phone. They nudge her towards it.

"Go on."

* * *

He pulls into the garage and returns the keys to the hook on the wall. Then he proceeds to his room, ignoring his mother's calls for him to come to the dining room, they were eating, and his father's enquiries as to where he has been. He flops onto his bed and stares at the ceiling. The whitewash was done imperfectly, leaving marks and patterns in the paint. Usually when he stares at this he can see many shapes, all nonsensical and all fading away the second he takes his eyes off them, but today it doesn't matter where he looks; all he can see is her face. He groans and throws an arm over his eyes. He doesn't want to see, but he doesn't want to forget either. Some of his best memories are with her, though he hasn't allowed himself to think of her in that way for almost six months. He's managed to make this situation her fault, and if he can keep it that way, maybe he can stay sane. Balance on the razor's edge between hating her and loving her.

His mobile phone rings. He ignores it; it is probably his father wanting him to come downstairs and talk. Then there is a knock on the door, and he can hear two voices debating whether or not to intrude. His parents. So who's calling him? He picks it up and looks at the number; he doesn't recognise it. The ringing stops, only to begin again seconds later. It's the same number. He sighs and answers the phone.

"Hello?"

There is a brief silence, but he knows there is somebody there; he can hear them breathing. When the caller speaks, he gasps. That voice...

"Hello."

Such a small word, but it opens up a world of possibilities. She is calling him. She wants to talk to him. He smiles and relaxes properly for the first time in two years.

* * *

Her companion smiles and slides out of the room, closing the door silently on her sobbing form. She is crying again, but judging by the hope in her voice and the exhilaration on her face, they are happy tears.

She doesn't notice them leaving; she is too engrossed in his voice. He has said only one word to her, but that has healed a small part of her already. She laughs through her tears and breaks the easy silence that has built up in the seconds since she spoke.

"I love you."

After two years, it seems the easiest and most appropriate thing to say. She can hear the smile in his voice as he replies, and cannot prevent the grin that spreads across her features.

"I love you too."


	8. Shatter version 2

Ok, here's version 2. This is even longer, ten pages. other than that, it's pretty much the same. Only the last two paragraphs are different, but it gives a whole other ending to the story. Warning; character death and very very depressing. Please don't read if either of those offend you.  
Disclaimer: I just did this. The characters belong to Eoin Colfer and the song it's set to is Shatter by OAR.

* * *

She walks through the city centre, her gaze on her feet. Her toes dip into a hole in the pavement; the council haven't renovated this part of town in years, and potholes litter the sidewalk, threatening a twisted ankle with each step. She'd almost relish it if she did fall; at least it would be a feeling. It's been so long since she's truly felt anything. All her emotions, once so vibrant and alive, now lie dormant. The most anybody gets out of her these days is a half-hearted nod or shake of the head, or if she's feeling particularly apathetic, a shrug that barely shakes her shoulders. Her friends worry, but if asked, she merely says that she's fine, just tired. After several months of the same response, people have stopped asking after her health.

* * *

He sits at his bedroom window, staring out at the rain. His thoughts are, for once, mercifully absent, and he watches the water drip down the glass, liking the numbness. He feels insulated, protected from the outside world. From his memories, which will insist on intruding on his rare moments of serenity and shattering his patience. Though often happy, even joyous, they infuriate him because they are of previous, better times. Times when he had the right company and the right inspiration to do what he does best. He hasn't written, or played the piano, or even spoken at length to anybody for so long now. He just sits in his room and watches the outside world, occasionally getting angry enough at his own inability to function that he throws things. After the third vase shattered against the door, everything breakable was moved out of his room. His family are beginning to seriously fear for his mental health, but he refuses to see a doctor. After what seems like an eternity of being snapped at, everyone has taken to leaving him alone.

* * *

When the decision was first made, she had fought against it with everything she had. She had been placed under house arrest, had her job threatened, and still she wouldn't give in. Then they played their ace card. If she was so insistent to break the rules, then they would remove the temptation. They'd even gone so far as to call the best assassin in the business before she finally yielded. She would obey their stupid rules if they would leave him be. Surely, it was better to know that he was alive and not be able to see him, than for him to be dead and it to be her fault. She could live with the former, but not the latter. She would have no more deaths on her conscience.

At first, everyone thought that she was coping fine; she went about her life like normal and, though her every move was closely watched, she showed no signs of breaking her word and visiting him. She went so far as to cut off all methods of communication with him, which pleased them no end. They reduced their constant surveillance to occasional spot-checks, and finally removed it altogether. She seemed a little downtrodden, but that was the general idea, wasn't it? To bring her into line. Well, they accomplished that. All it took was killing her spirit.

* * *

He hits his head off the glass, trying to stop the memories from overwhelming him again. It doesn't work. Her face floats to the front of his mind, her eyes shining, her lips curled up in a smile. He clenches his left hand into a fist. How dare she be so happy when he is so miserable? How dare she move on with her life and leave him stranded in the past, unable to advance and unwilling to backtrack? He slams his fist into the glass over and over until spider web cracks emanate from the repeated impacts. He inspects his bruised knuckles; a little blood oozes from tiny cuts, but it doesn't really hurt. Physical pain doesn't do a lot to him anymore; his heartache is too intense. He is in constant internal anguish, what are a few scratches?

He glares out at the rain, but it's no longer soothing. Now he fancies that it's mocking him, declaring its freedom, its ability to go anywhere and do anything. Versatility. It was his best trait at one point, but all his adaptive ability left him long ago. That's why he is stuck in limbo, why her leaving bothers him so. He longs for the numbness to return, but the sting in his left hand tells him that it won't. He grabs a jacket from the wardrobe and runs to the garage, pulling out onto the main road in his father's car seconds later. His family notice him leaving too late to do anything about it, and watch mutely as he speeds away, wondering if he will return, and trying to suppress the tiny guilty part of them that hopes he won't.

* * *

She finally tires of her aimless walk and sits on a nearby wall, still staring at her shoes like they hold the answer to her problems. She wishes it would rain where she is, so that there would be some physical manifestation of her mood; she seems incapable of expressing it herself. She thinks that maybe her misery is so complete that it is beyond what her body can display. Beyond what she can safely feel; is that why she feels nothing?

His face appears in front of her, lined up with the cracks on the pavement. She blinks and the image disappears, like it has so many times before. Part of her thinks that maybe she is going mad; most of her thinks that she's already there. Depression, the doctor said, and prescribed a small bottle of white pills. They are still sitting in her bathroom at home, unopened. She hasn't even broken the seal; enough of the old her remains to distrust the 'happy pills'. She thinks that maybe she should be happy about that, but the most she can manage is a vague feeling of contentment that fades much more quickly than it arrived. The old her, the spunky rebel, the girl with a razor-sharp attitude is gone, and this is what is left in her place. She doesn't much like what she has become, but she can't seem to bring herself to do anything about it. Acting on what tiny emotions she has requires energy, and that's something she ran out of long ago.

* * *

He drives fast and recklessly, some hazy part of his brain acknowledging that this is likely to get him killed, and not much caring about it. The idea of the drive was to stop the flood of memories that he doesn't want to relive yet again, but it doesn't seem to be working. His mind rewinds almost two years to the night he last spoke to her. It was dark when she called, which suited his mood perfectly. He knew about the restrictions they were trying to impose on her, and he knew she was fighting them with every step, but lately she'd been faltering; he'd heard the exhaustion in her tone, and her messages and calls were becoming less frequent. He didn't like it, but there wasn't much he could do from where he was. He answered the phone, knowing full well that it was her and that she was going to give him more bad news. What he didn't comprehend was how bad.

"I've had enough" were her opening words. No 'hello', no 'how are you'. Not even a complaint about the restrictions they were placing on her. She spoke so quietly too, that he couldn't be certain that he'd heard her correctly; he didn't want that to have been what she'd actually said. He'd told her, in his most authoritative tone (hoping to provoke a reaction and hear the voice he'd grown to love and respect yelling back at him) to repeat herself. She sighed minutely.

"I've had enough."

Her voice was clearer this time, and there was no mistaking the message she was delivering. She was giving up the fight; she was letting them beat her. He'd gaped for a few seconds, trying to process this. She never gave in; she was quite possibly the most stubborn person he knew. What had they done to her? She didn't let him recover enough to talk.

"Goodbye" she muttered into the phone, just loud enough for him to hear, and hung up. In the milliseconds before the click that told him he was speaking to a dial tone, he could have sworn he heard a sob. She was crying.

* * *

A hand descends onto her shoulder and squeezes lightly. She glances up from her bootlaces long enough to determine who is intruding on her solitude, then returns her attention to the floor. Maybe if she looks for long enough, the cracks will take on his appearance again. She knows it is pathetic, but she doesn't much care; she will take whatever small part of him she can get, even if it is a hallucination. A delusion is better than nothing.

Her companion sighs and sits beside her, throwing a comradely arm across her shoulders. It is meant to be comforting, she knows, but physical contact has long since ceased to soothe her. They watch her intently for any sign of a reaction, but find nothing. They sigh again, sounding exasperated, and pull her to her feet.

"Come on, let's sort you out."

She's not sure what they mean by that, and not entirely certain that she minds. She trusts her companion, or at least she used to when she trusted anything. Nowadays, she doesn't even have faith in herself. She allows them to tug her towards the nicer part of town, resigned to whatever they want her to do. It breaks her companion's heart. She used to have so much personality, so much passion. Now, she's a shell, a poor imitation of what she used to be. It's time to fix that.

* * *

Eventually, he realises that he has no idea where he is driving to, and pulls over. Maybe getting lost would not be such a bad thing. He could go somewhere nobody knows him and start over. Get a new identity and a new life. Could he do it? Could he leave her behind? Leave everything he knows and used to care about and start again? Certainly he cannot continue to live in limbo, and he cannot break free whilst surrounded by the familiarity of his home. Too much there reminds him of her. No, if he is ever going to recover, he needs to go away.

He starts the engine again and continues down the road, but he hasn't gone more than thirty feet when he realises where he is and allows the car to stall. It's the place he first saw her. He cannot see it from here, but he knows it's there, just out of sight over the hill. If his subconscious continually leads him to her, how can he ever escape? How can he ever start again?

He slumps back in his seat and closes his eyes, suddenly weary. He will be living like this forever; a shadow of his former self, always looking over his shoulder for the ghost of a girl he used to know. If he cannot escape her, then what is the point in trying? He turns the key in the ignition and circles the car around, heading for home.

* * *

She doesn't really process where she's going, letting her feet follow her companion while her mind dwells on that last phone call. Two years have passed almost, and still it breaks what's left of her heart every time she thinks about it. His silence, her tears, his disbelief. He never tried to get back in contact with her, that's what really hurts. He claimed to care for her, encouraged her to fight for him, but he didn't care enough to fight for her. She feels worse every time that conclusion forms in her mind, and retreats further into her own head, back to when they were happy together. Her movements falter, and she stumbles. Only the strong arms of her companion prevent her from falling to the ground.

"Oh no you don't."

She allows them to stand her upright again and push her through a set of double doors. She is inside, though she doesn't remember entering a building. In front of her is a desk, on which stand a phone and a piece of paper with writing on it. Her companion pushes her forward.

"Go ahead."

She approaches the desk cautiously, a little more of the old her peeking through. She gets close enough to read the paper. On it is a number, maybe ten or eleven digits long. It takes her a moment to place it, but when she does she feels faint. Why are they doing this to her now?

Her eyes widen in panic. Not the response her companion was wanting or expecting, but it's a response at least, and that's a start. She looks at them with real fear in her eyes, and speaks without prompting for the first time in four months.

"I can't."

Words, even better. Now to work on the outlook. 'I can't' is not a phrase that she's ever used before, except in defiance. This is not defiance, it's pleading. She never begs.

"You can. Go on."

They speak softly, not wanting to spook her back into her reclusive cocoon. She gulps and glances back at the number briefly before attempting to dart out of the door. They grab her around the waist, and she elbows them in the stomach. They grin, despite having the wind knocked out of them, and spin her back around to face the phone. She stumbles back to the desk and grips the edge to stop herself from falling. Her companion hunches over and clutches their stomach, but cannot stop from grinning. She's fighting again. Just a few seconds with his number has her behaving more like her old self, what will happen if she actually calls him?

She eyes the open door again, but doesn't attempt another escape. Instead she licks her lips and settles for grasping the desk behind her. She tries one last time to escape from the situation, this time using words.

"They'll kill him."

Her companion shakes their head.

"They've rescinded the order. You're free to contact him. So go on."

She blinks rapidly, trying to understand. She can call him? Speak to him, see him again? She shakes her head and swallows the sob that tries to escape her lips, but she cannot stop the tears from cascading down her cheeks. Her companion is at her side instantly, lack of air forgotten in the face of her misery.

"What's wrong? I thought you'd be happy."

She inhales shakily, trying to get enough air to verbalise her doubts.

"He...never...doesn't want..." She stops and takes several deep breaths, gaining control of her vocal cords. "He never tried to contact me. He doesn't want me."

She's said it, but she doesn't feel any better. If anything, it hurts more actually verbalising it. Knowing that he never loved her the way she loved him and admitting it are two very different things; if the former breaks her heart, then the latter shatters it. Her companion stands uncomprehending for a moment, then what she's said clicks.

"That's not true. After you cut off contact, all the calls to your number were routed through the mainframe. Any from his number were stopped before they reached your phone; he tried to call you almost constantly for two months. He loves you. He said as much in the dozens of voice messages he left for you."

She looks at her companion through waterlogged eyes.

"Really?"

They chuckle and release their grip on her shoulders.

"Do you want to hear the messages? They're all saved to disk somewhere. I could find them if you'd like."

She shakes her head and steps free of their embrace, turning her gaze to the phone. They nudge her towards it.

"Go on."

* * *

The mobile phone rings incessantly, but nobody answers it. Everyone at the scene is more preoccupied by the wreck before them, the twisted metal and smashed glass. The phone is probably the only thing not broken; the only lucky object to survive the crash. Its screen is cracked, but otherwise it is unharmed.

The ringing stops as another police car pulls up. The fire service is already there, using their cutters to remove the crumpled roof of the car. There is no urgency in their movements; everyone knows that the young man in the driver's seat is dead. There is too much blood, too much bone showing for him to still be alive. One of the ambulance crew checks anyway, stretching through the windscreen to check for a pulse, but finds nothing. Impacts with a large tree at seventy miles per hour will do that.

Finally the roof comes free, and is lifted away to expose the full extent of the carnage inside the vehicle. The boy's face is too bloody for any sort of identification; that will have to wait until the coroner is done with him. The nearest police officer, a young man himself not much older than the victim, turns away. He cannot look at this.

The phone rings again. Nobody seems to want to touch it. The young officer puts up with its desperate cries for attention for three rings, then gives in and picks it up, answering sombrely.

"Yes?"

There is a brief confused silence.

"Who is this?"

The voice is feminine, and sounds scared. The officer identifies himself, and she gasps.

"Is he alright?"

"Who?"

The girl describes a young man, dark hair and light eyes. The officer casts a fresh eye over the scene before him; the description fits. He sighs mournfully.

"I'm so sorry."

* * *

She hangs up the phone, her numbness back in place and with more of a hold on her than ever. Her companion, who has heard only her side of the conversation, asks her what is wrong. She looks at him with dead eyes and speaks in a tone completely devoid of emotion.

"He's gone. I'm too late."

She turns and leaves the room silently.


	9. I Forgive You

Back again; I'm really churning these out, aren't I? It's the product of a bored, somewhat stressed mind. Updates will drop off after Uni starts, so make the most of it while it's here. This songfic is based after TTP, about twenty years after (the exact time is in the story). It's A/H friendship, if it works properly. Aiden is mine, but everyone else belongs to Eoin Colfer. The song (the lyrics are at the bottom of the fic; read them, they're beautiful) is I Forgive You by Ari Hest.

* * *

Holly was clearing out her apartment. The elf she'd been seeing for the last fifteen years (a long time, even for the People) had finally asked her to move in with him, and she'd accepted. His house was a lot bigger than her little flat, and she was mostly moved in already – her uniforms were hanging in his closet in case she spent the night and had to report to work early, and at least half of the music disks lying around the place were hers. The actual moving was just a formality. Well, that and putting her flat up for sale.

She turned to the pile of clothes on the top draw of her closet. She hadn't worn that stuff in years. Sighing, she pulled it down and toed open the bad with 'donations' written on the side. She was about to dump them inside when her fingers encountered something hard inside the bundle. She frowned and dropped the material to the floor, shifting through until she found the object; a small communicator. For a minute she couldn't think why it would be there, then she recalled. The human, Artemis Fowl. He had the other half of the pair, or at least he used to have it. Odds were he'd forgotten about it over the years, as she had.

She picked it up and turned it in a slow circle. She hadn't thought about the boy in years. Actually, he would be a man now, wouldn't he? Almost twenty years may not have done a lot to her age-wise, but Artemis would be almost middle-aged. Wouldn't he?

Her gaze fell from the device to her index finger. The scar still ran around the base of it, but it was faded with time. She barely even registered it anymore; it was just something that was there, a part of her like her blue eye. A link to the bo...man that she ignored, because it was easier that way. She wouldn't have to think about all the times she'd fought with him, saved the world with him, been hurt by him...

She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to drive the memory out of her head. The last time they'd spoken, they'd ended up having their biggest fight ever. He had accused her of hypocrisy, and she in return had called him a myriad of unpleasant things, at which he'd demanded she leave his home. She had done so, and when she'd gotten home she'd hidden the communicator because she didn't want to talk to him; she didn't want to hear his half-hearted apologies or angry accusations. Under the pile of unused clothes, she couldn't hear it ringing.

She opened her eyes and looked back down at the small electronic device, wondering if it still worked. She knew that Artemis had tried to contact her; when he couldn't get her to answer he'd taken to calling Foaly and asking the centaur to pass on messages. They started out meek, asking her to please call him back, and gradually got more and more irritated, until finally the centaur had refused to play go-between any more.

"It's your mess, you can sort it out" he'd demanded. She hadn't heard from Artemis since; eighteen years had passed since she'd heard from or seen him. It was her own fault, she knew, but she was still inclined to blame the bo...man. It was just easier that way.

She picked the clothed up off the floor and dropped them into the donations bag. The communicator went in her pocket, and she forgot about it again until she was getting undressed for bed that night. Aiden, her boyfriend, picked it up as it rolled across the floor and handed it back to her.

"What is it?"

"A piece of my past" she replied, and leaned against his chest. She told him what had happened, gazing at the device as though it held all the answers. He listened carefully and kissed her shoulder.

"Are you still mad at him?"

Holly shrugged.

"I guess not."

Aiden turned her around to face him and kissed her gently.

"Then I think you should call him. Tell him that. After all, you can only hold a grudge for so long."

He vanished into the bathroom to shower. Holly sat on the end of the bed, fingering the communicator. Aiden was right; this was silly. No matter what she thought about the human, when she really thought about it she missed him. He could anger her like nobody else, but he could also make her laugh, cheer her up when she was down. He'd saved her life and she'd saved his. They were even literally part of each other. A bond like that doesn't just disappear. She took a deep breath and pressed the call button. It rang a few times, then, to her great surprise, it was answered.

"Hello?"

Holly gulped. She recognised that voice.

"You still sound the same you know Fowl, even after all this time. I thought human's voices got deeper when they got older?"

He was silent for a moment.

"Why didn't you call me back?"

Holly mentally trawled through all the possible responses, and couldn't think of a single one that didn't sound petty and juvenile. Artemis waited for a few seconds, then spoke again.

"I missed you."

She smiled.

"I missed you too. Artemis..."

"Yes?"

"I forgive you. For the lying and everything. I'm sorry too; I shouldn't have let our friendship drop off because I was mad at you. Can we pick it up again? Maybe not where we stopped, but somewhere?"

Artemis was silent for so long that Holly feared he'd just put the communicator down and walked away. When he spoke again, there was a distinct undertone to his usual neutral voice. Relief?

"Would you like to come and visit? I promise, no yelling. We have a lot of catching up to do."

Holly eyed the closed bathroom door.

"We do indeed."

They arranged a time and place to meet up, and Holly closed the communicator feeling lighter than she had in years. It was like some huge weight she wasn't even aware she was carrying had been lifted. She stood, placed the small device on the bedside table, and opened the bathroom door, joining Aiden in the shower. It was an hour later when they stumbled back into the bedroom and snuggled up together under the covers. Holly kissed him tenderly and whispered against his lips.

"Thank you."

* * *

_I haven't heard from you since  
Well I can't even recall your face  
Isn't it sad to think that  
Our younger years have been replaced by  
Responsibilities and life's little intricacies  
When everyone's trying hard to be  
It's easy to lose track_

_You said some things to me that  
I have had trouble forgetting about  
But there ain't no sense in holding  
Grudges forever that's the simple way out  
We may not be so close now  
Staying enemies I won't allow  
And the only way that I know how  
To let go is to tell you  
I forgive you  
I forgive you  
I forgive you  
I forgive you, you, you, you_

_No sense, no sense in holding grudges  
Let it go_


	10. Because Of You

I'm back again. The lyrics that are relevant are at the top, but the rest I haven't bothered with. I heard this and thought it was so A/H that I had to write something. So, here it is. I own nothing.

* * *

_You know I can't be there  
Each time that you call  
I swore not to come, but I'm here after all  
(Because Of You, Nickelback)_

You sit at your desk, eyes turned to the window. The blinds are opened as far as they will go, showing a large section of the night sky. The stars shine like diamonds, heralding her arrival. Of course, she told you that she wasn't coming – you can recall her exact words, and they weren't friendly – but you know that she will come. She will make up some excuse to get away from work, which she claimed was burying her alive. She will say she was completing the Ritual or had some holiday time due. She will make you wait most of the night, but she will come. She always comes.

You think back to the last time you saw her. It was almost a month ago, around the time of the last full moon. You had spoken to her earlier that day, told her of the investments you had made and how your brothers were 'quite possibly the most irritating beings on the face of the planet'. She had retorted that she worked with both Foaly and Mulch, so you should shut up and stop complaining. You had smirked and invited her over, to 'get away from it all'. Your words implied that 'it all' was the irritating co-workers, but you and she both knew that 'it all' meant the rest of the world. You taught her to play chess, and though she's nowhere near your standard, she is better than most. You joked that it was because she had an excellent teacher. She threw a pawn at you and said she had to go. She said that she would have to stay away for a while, because work was creeping up on her. Earlier today, she had yelled at you over the communicator because you were 'interrupting her flow'.

"I can't come to you every time you crook your finger at me! I have my own life, you know, and some of us have to work for a living. We don't all have it as easy as you! Now, if you'll excuse me, my inbox is overflowing."

She had hung up without saying goodbye, and you had leaned back in your seat and smiled to yourself. Now, four hours later, you sit in the same chair as last time, in the same spot as last time, staring out of the window for her approaching figure. You think it is probably too early yet; you estimate that she will turn up in thirty-six minutes, but you prefer to be ready. She is the one person who can confound you; she may turn up sooner than you expect. All you are certain of is that she will come. You have as much influence over her as she does over you, and you know that she will come when you call. Just as you will tell her the truth always, a luxury that nobody else gets to enjoy. Just as you will give her all the time and attention she asks for, whether it's help with a particularly difficult mission or talking with her late into the night, ignoring your body's cries for sleep. The relationship you share is more than friendship, but nothing so complicated as romance. It is more a symbiosis. Over the years, you have become so dependent on each other that you could not survive otherwise. You cannot even imagine a life without her; you don't want to.

Twenty-three minutes until she arrives. You pull your glasses on and return your gaze to the window, now able to make her out even if she is shielded. The sky remains clear. You sit almost motionless; the only sounds the ticking of the clock on the wall and your breaths rasping in your throat. You have the beginnings of a cold, but she will heal that for you when she gets here. Seventeen minutes.

When there are twelve minutes left, you see a figure in the distance. A small humanoid with large wings holding her in the air flies towards you, getting larger by the second. You smirk, allowing her to see the smugness in your expression as she enters the room through the window. She pulls the opening closed behind her and turns back to face you, pulling her equipment from her body of pooling it on the floor. Then, clad only in her work uniform (which has gotten quite a bit more form fitting since Kelp took over the LEP) and a light sheen of sweat from her flight, she stalks towards you. You pull the spare chair from its space next to the desk and place it beside you, spinning it slightly. Her eyes widen. Last time she was here, she had commented that you always got the fun chair, so you had requisitioned her a computer chair of her own. Maybe that will give her more cause to stop by. She sinks into it and launched into the anticipated excuse for her visit. You nod and don't bother to correct her. You don't need to acknowledge the real reason she is here; the reason you asked to her to come, and the reason your heart would break a little if, one time, she didn't. You need her, and she needs you. And that's the closest relationship the two of you can share, the closest you can ever imagine her wanting and her people accepting.

You lean back in your chair and allow a natural smile to frame your features. In the end, it doesn't really matter why she's here. It's just enough that she is.


	11. Feelin' Way Too Damn Good

Ignore the title of this; it is not a happy story. Character death, but luckily a one-shot. I'm churning out the depressing ones recently, and I have no idea why. Anyway, moving on. The lyrics relevant are at the top, and the whole quote gives the reason for this piece. I hope it makes sense, if not, let me know? I own nothing.

* * *

_Well something's gotta go wrong  
Coz I'm feelin' way too damn good  
(Feelin' Way Too Damn Good, Nickelback)_

She knows the exact second that she realised it. She can pinpoint it with alarming accuracy; it was the second her world tilted sideways. She can recall it clearly, almost relive each second. She can feel her heart thumping in her chest; too hard in her panic, too fast. She can feel the burn in her lungs, not from exertion, but from fear. _Please no, please no, please..._ The mantra overtook her mind, leaving no room for anything else. So she had run into danger without hesitation, because her only thought was for his safety; her own never crossed her mind. And that, she thinks, is what made her realise, when she looks back months later. Her reckless disregard for everything but him. There was only one thing that could have caused it.

She'd known in abstract, of course. She'd even said it to him, but without truly knowing what her words meant. It was just the sort of thing that sounded good, and she thought it might make him feel better after a long day. That's not to say she didn't mean it; of course she did. She just never considered the consequences of it; the dangers to herself, and to him. She grimaces now, and once again comes to the conclusion that of all the things that have happened to her over her life, this is both her greatest gift and her greatest curse.

She looks down at the paper in her hand. On it is a picture of the two of them together, both grinning madly, with their arms around each other's waists. It was taken days before the incident that turned her world on its head, days before she truly understood what her feelings for him meant. And she had grown stronger for that knowledge, even if it worried him. She knew he'd do the same for her; and she frequently reminded him of that when he brought up her rashness on that day.

Is it rash, to risk your life for the one you love? How about to give it for them?

She lowers her hand and the image drops to the ground, to lie among the ashes scattered liberally over the remains of her home. There is screaming in the background, and she knows that somewhere nearby there is an entire LEP squadron fighting their way through the panicked masses, coming to her aid, and his. She also knows that they will be too late.

She glares once more at the beings in front of her. Two people; one standing like royalty among the ruins, the other slumped on their side, gasping for breath. Opal hisses once more through her teeth and demands again that Holly comes to her.

"Now, elf, or your lover dies!"

She looks at the man sprawled on the ground, and a tear falls from her eyes. There is blood on his face, though it is mostly hidden by the ash. They were inside when the outer walls of her house imploded, leaving them to scramble for cover and hold each other tightly. They had ridden out the original explosion, but only because Opal had grander plans. The pixie wants to see Holly Short's death, to deliver the killing blow herself. To stand over the elf's body and watch as the last flickers of life leave her eyes. Holly knows it, and so does the man slumped at Opal's feet. He gathers his strength and raises his head, his eyes beseeching her not to do it. He cannot talk, he does not have enough strength for that, but his gaze speaks volumes. He is fully prepared to die for her. She shakes her head sadly, and another tear falls. It will do no good, even if she is so selfish as to permit him to give his life for her. He is not the one Opal wants.

Holly takes a step forwards, and he finds his voice. It is weak, barely loud enough to cover the ground between them, but somehow it drowns out the cries and screams of the onlookers and the footsteps of those running away. She sees only his face, hears only his voice. He tells her to run, to save herself. He asks of her the one thing she cannot give; she opens her mouth to tell him, but the lump in her throat stops her from making a sound. Opal laughs and nudges him in the temple with the end of her gun. The message is clear.

Holly closes her eyes, her mind rewinding six months. The time she had realised how much she loved this man, how much she was willing to give for him. Pure panic had frozen her insides. This is nothing like that; now, she feels her heartbeat and it is regular. Her breathing hitches, but that is from shock and the ash in the air, not fear. She realises that she is calm, in spite of the situation. And she knows what she will do. She opens her eyes and, ignoring her lover, meets the pixie's gaze.

"Swear on the Book that you will let him go."

His cry of 'no' is lost in Opal's answer.

"I swear."

Holly takes a deep breath and walks forwards until she is standing three feet from Opal. Her lover has crawled to her, and she kneels and rests her hand on his cheek. He had run from the house first after the tremors had stopped, straight into Opal's arms. That's why he can barely move, and that's why Holly is crying. Not for her own loss, but for his. She leans close and kisses him passionately, feeling his reluctance at first. He knows that this is not a 'I'll-see-you-at-my-place-later-but-here's-something-to-get-by-on-until-then' kiss. Holly pours her heart and soul into it, telling him without words how much she loves him. Telling him that she wouldn't have this any other way. Telling him goodbye.

He grabs at her, pulling her close to him until their hearts beat in unison and she cannot tell where she ends and he begins. She forces herself to move, to break the embrace. She pulls back so that she is not touching him, and lets her eyes roam his face, memorising it. Even bloody and streaked with ash and dirt, he is still beautiful to her. She speaks in a whisper, but knows he hears her. His eyes tear up, and she stands before he can speak or touch her. She looks to Opal, and nods once. The pixie has sworn on the Book, and that creates a magical bind. Opal is held to her promise; she cannot touch him. And that makes Holly happy.

Holly closes her eyes and focuses on that last kiss. On his lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth; his love racing through her, making her strong enough to do this. She doesn't register the click of the handgun in Opal's hands, the sound of the trigger being pulled. She is lost in those moments with him, and her last words reverberate in her mind.

"I love you, Trouble."

There is a pain in her chest, and the world vanishes.


End file.
